Superstitious
by Genevieve Darcy Granger
Summary: You want the Apple Pie Life with John. Impossible, you know, but maybe if you believe hard enough, it could happen.


"Come on, John, you can't be serious," you scoffed and rotated your half-empty beer bottle on the sticky, wooden tabletop. The bottle was cool to the touch, leaving a ring of condensation water to join the other older stains on the shitty motel furniture. Though this was your fourth beer of the night – and your third year following after John with his demon hunts – you were doubtful of the new case that cropped up. "There's no way this traveling circus is run by demons or something. Wouldn't they have to have a sense of humor first?"

As serious as a heart attack that he always was, John tightened his fist around the bottle of whiskey he just bought at the gas station while you filled up his truck. "You don't think you can handle this hunt; you walk away." His severe hazel eyes narrowed at you, and you felt stripped down to the core.

Too bad it wasn't the way you wished when it came to the handsome, older Alpha. While John was protective of you just like he was with his boys, he didn't try to shelter you; rare behavior for an Alpha to have with an Omega. The hunting life was rough, but you were too head over heels for John to care. You'd follow him anywhere.

With a smirk, you took another sip of your beer. "Can't get rid of me that easily, Alpha." Playfully, you knocked the neck of your beer against his whiskey.

John's eyes flashed red in warning, which he paired with a growl. "Easy." You ducked your head in submission to him, and with that appeasing gesture, he continued less tersely. "The circus is the perfect cover for these crossroad demons. They're in town for less than a week before they pack up overnight and disappear to another. We've got a string of newspapers all advertising the circus with follow up stories about mysterious activities."

"I don't know if they're all that mysterious, John." You ticked off what you'd read in the papers for yourself on your fingers, "Just Alpha and Omegas getting bonded. A lucky woman winning the local casserole contest–"

"And a handful of lucky lottery tickets, along with two hearty Alphas in their twenties, dying of heart-attacks," John cut her off. "It's a demon making deals. The bills just haven't come due yet." He huffed at her and took a long swig, a few droplets of whiskey shining on his bottom lip before he licked it away. "You gotta have a hunch about these kinds of things, girl. This business needs instincts or you're dead in the water."

"Or the back of a trunk. Or in the middle of the woods. I get it, John." You finished off your beer and pushed away from the table. "I'm a big girl. I can handle whatever you throw at me," you blustered through your booze. Stripping off your jeans, you climbed in the queen bed, its rusty hinges creaking in protest of your weight. "Bright and early tomorrow, John?"

"Oh four hundred." He watched you from the table, passive as always, no matter how much you tried to get his attention.

Recently, John had started pinching pennies on the fake credit cards and getting rooms with just one bed since it was the two of you while his boys were staying with Bobby for school. But so far, John never joined you in bed until you were already asleep. Every morning, he always got out of bed before you as well, no matter how early.

Tonight was no different as sleep claimed you while you watched John hunch over his whiskey bottle, writing away in his journal, the sound of his gentle breathing your only lullaby.

* * *

The next morning, John took you to breakfast at the local diner of the small town of Wilsonville, Alabama. It was a town with a population smaller than two thousand and boasted one stop-light, and now currently, a circus had cropped up on the outskirts of the town where the urban gave-way to the rural with tons of open fields for space. John had complained on the drive over that the south-eastern states made him feel claustrophobic with all the trees compared to the wide-open spaces of Kansas he grew up with. From the passenger seat, you really didn't have an opinion. If you were stuck staring at the tree line blurring past, you were stuck staring at the lines on the highway and counting neighboring cars – if you were lucky. But usually your attention drifted to John. When you finally reached the diner, you were grateful to finally get some food that was more than eye-candy.

Over your breakfast, you reviewed the plan John had made to catch the demons. "It'll likely be the workers, maybe all of them, maybe none. Our best bet is to check the trailer to be sure. Hide some devil's traps around the place. Paint it on the ceiling, slide it under their doormats, dump salt around the corners, whatever you can." He grabbed the salt shaker from the table and tucked it into his pocket, gaze trained on the waitress, waiting on the check. "We'll stock up more after."

"Do we even get to play around a bit while we're there?" You pushed your food around on your plate, a little pouty that John's attention was elsewhere. Just below the surface of your skin, you could feel a low, low simmer of your heat, kept firmly in check by your suppressants.

One of the first rules John made you follow while hunting is that you had to take suppressants. While Omegas attracted enough unwanted attention as it is from knot-heads and nosy people in general, monsters really loved to prey on omegas. At first you thought the rule was for John's benefit, and you heavily protested, forgetting the suppressant here and there when you knew it wasn't time for your heat, just to see what John would do. A few months into that kind of hunting routine, and you didn't kick up a fuss about suppressants as you dealt with horndog werewolves, creepy vampires, and weirdos at the bar alike. Still, you had hoped your unfiltered scent would have some kind of pull on John. While he did always come to your rescue, that was it for that. No such luck.

"This is a hunt," John reminded you. "You want to go to the circus for fun, you join a pack like that." He jerked his chin towards a small family at the neighboring booth, the picture-perfect American Dream. It was an Alpha and his Omega, with four pups between them and one on the way, judging by the glow of the Omega. She was shining like the sun as she spooned grits into the smallest pup's mouth while he sat in the rickety wooden high chair, burbling happily.

Looking at them was like a sucker punch to the gut. You could remember when you were a pup in a family like that, but that was before you presented, and before the crossroad demon that killed your father came to collect. It wasn't until after John had rescued you that you figured out what your father had gotten out of the deal: your mother and little brother.

When your mother was pregnant with your brother, she had suffered complications. The doctors gave your father hard decision of having either his son or his wife saved. The demon granted him both – for ten years. When those ten years were up, the demon came back for your father's soul, and your mother's, and your brother's – and your two other younger siblings born after your brother. All in the fine print since none of their lives would have continued to exist or existed in the first place without the demon's deal. You were spared and orphaned at the same time, but John got your revenge. And then he took you in and trained you, and the rest was history.

Now, though, looking at that family, you realized you were gutted by a different emotion than grief: envy. It was like a white-hot lance through your heart, and your mouth twisted at the feeling. You were picturing yourself as the Omega and John as the Alpha before you could stop yourself. It was easy to picture Sam and Dean there, too, along with pups of your own. But that was another of those things – much like the life your father bargained for – that was never meant to be.

"Come on, girl," John urged you, his long fingers wrapping around the top of your arm as he helped you slide out of the booth. "Let's go."

And you let him drag you along, helpless to do anything other than follow as always. There was no where else you'd rather be, and no where else you could be without John.

* * *

At the carnival, John bought your tickets and led you inside. Despite just having breakfast, the smell of grease was tantalizing and you could see the concession stand with hanging bags of popcorn and cotton candy. Just as you were about to beg John for some cash, he passed you your purse, stuffed the brim with demon-killing supplies. As soon as you looped the strap over your shoulder, you stumbled a little from the weight. John's own supplies were hidden in his jacket, but his pistol was on his hip just like yours. Open-carry state. "Remember why we're here and be safe."

"We're splitting up?" Evidently, you hadn't really been paying attention.

"Cover more ground that way," John answered, for once not impatient. Then he used his Alpha voice on you, and you practically melted. "Be safe, and if you think you've found a demon, you come and get me. No taking things on by yourself, girl."

"Yes, Alpha," you simpered in your Omega whine, batting your eyelashes at him. Your eyes glittered gold.

The corners of John's kissable mouth twitched, and his eyes went red. Without another word or so much as a growl, John walked away, his long legs ensuring that he got away fast. He blended into the crowd seamlessly, and you were left standing there like an idiot Omega.

With no money, you couldn't grab a snack like you hoped, and since you were by yourself you didn't feel comfortable trying to go on any of the rides, suppressants or not. So, you got down to work, threading through families and couples as you tried to keep your focus.

The trailers were hidden towards the back behind the tents of rigged games, like the ring toss for goldfish or dart throwing at water balloons or knocking over milk bottles with a baseball. No one stopped you as you casually made your way back there, and once you were there you just picked the first trailer and went inside. The first one was innocuous except whoever lived there – an Alpha, judging by the scent - was a total slob and definite alcoholic as your sneakers knocked into rattling beer cans every step of the way. It was easy paint the devils trap on the underside of the mattress and then you just sprinkled salt all through the place just to fuck with the possible demon.

The next trailer went similarly, except a woman lived there and had a cute little welcome mat, so you painted the devils trap on the underside. The beta woman had tons of makeup products, so you guessed she was a performer as you admired the bottles upon bottles of body glitter. The smell made you sneeze, though, so you moved on quickly.

It wasn't until you reached the third trailer that things started to get interesting. When you entered, the smell of burning incense swamped your lungs, and the room was dark, barely lit with candles. It was an obvious fire hazard, especially with the books scattered everywhere, but judging by the bottles of mysterious substances everywhere this was looking like a decidedly witchier case. There was literally writing on the wall, all of the strange symbols very witchy in nature.

You peeked in one of the books, quickly deducing it as an older Grimoire, though not you obviously recognized. While your Latin wasn't nearly as good as John's, you managed to translate a few of the words. "Okay, _tenebrae_," you sighed to yourself and squinted at the faded ink, "That's like…night. Darkness! That's what that means. And uh, _cupio_…Cupid? Love? No, not love, but something about the heart."

"The word you're looking for is desire," said a woman, and you spun around to see a Morticia Addams look-a-like, if Morticia Addams also dressed like Cher. "But I don't think that's the spell you're looking for."

There goes those hunter instincts John was always stressing. "Uh…" Your hand crept towards your purse until you realized you were severely unprepared. Salt wouldn't do shit to a witch. The solid weight on your hip made you remember your pistol, though, and while it wasn't witch-killing bullets, it would still hurt her like a bitch.

Before you could grab it, Cher-Witch waved her hand and you flipped over the table until you were slammed back in a chair with a dust-saturated seat cushion. With the breath knocked out of your lungs, you choked on the air and sputtered, eyes watering as you watched the witch casually pull up a chair to sit across from you. Her ruby red nails – filed to a point – tapped on the pages you were just reading, something like reverence on her face. "So," she started casually, "Are you here to kill me, Omega?"

She gave you the time to catch your breath again, and when you could, you took a cautionary whiff, trying to scent her out. Underneath the overbearing stench of the incense, you could smell sage and something like spicy perfume, and then the rather boring scent of a Beta. "No," you coughed, "I thought you were a demon."

"And why is that?" Cher-Witch crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, non-threatening.

Figuring that talking was your best bet until John could rescue you – if he came looking – you shifted in your chair to settle in for bad monologuing. Also trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, you placed your hands flat on the table top. "I read in the newspaper about people suddenly getting what they want. My first thought was crossroad demons, which makes sense for a traveling circus. A good cover."

Cher-Witch wasn't baited by the compliment at all. "Really? A demon and not a djinn? I was hoping I could hide under that cover for a while."

"Uh, I sort of specialize with demons, so demons was my best shot."

"You can stop pretending it's only you. I know you came here with an Alpha." Cher-Witch smirked, her eyes narrowed and cunning. You'd never met anyone besides John where you could see the intelligence in their eyes. With John, you enjoyed that look because it made you feel like a puzzle he was trying to figure out. But that look in the witch's eyes made you feel like you were about to be dissected, which could very well be true. "What's interesting," Cher-Witch purred, "is that that is not your Alpha."

"How do you know that?"

"You reek of suppressants," Cher-Witch sneered, nose wrinkling delicately, "Those unnatural things. Your Alpha is either disgraceful, or not your Alpha. And he has such a virile scent, that there's no way he's disgraceful. Just choosey."

The words stung, and you ducked your head to regain your composure. Just like the words, tears stung in your eyes and you felt like you were sucker-punched in the gut, it was so hard to breathe. You dug your knuckles in your eyes, angry at yourself, and gasped, "Fuck."

"Don't be sad, little Omega," Cher-Witch cooed in mock sympathy, though her painted red lips were curved into a smug smile. "I'll offer you a deal. You let me live, and I'll give you your Alpha."

When you pulled your knuckles away from your eye sockets you were seeing stars. "Oh yeah? And how are you gonna do that, Cher? Bullshit love potions and stupid fucking hex bags? Magic?"

"The same way I've been helping everyone else, dear." Cher-Witch said, tone harder than before. "So, yes, that means magic. But if you really don't want your Alpha, I suppose somebody else will. I could just pluck up any unclaimed Omega out there and convince her to climb him like a tree. And as for you, well, I can convince you that you're a squirrel and let you run in front of a semi-truck. Would you like that?"

Shuddering, you quickly shook your head. "No…but I know there's always a catch to these things." Putting on a brave face, you took a steadying deep breath and cocked an eyebrow at her. Still, you couldn't hold back the doubt from lacing your tone as you bluntly asked, "So what's the catch if I let you give me John?"

"John is it? Quaint. Charming. Typical knothead Alpha." Cher-Witch started flipping through her book, movements exaggeratedly careful and slow so she wouldn't accidentally rip any pages. "The catch, my dear, is that in order for you to keep your Alpha, I have to stay alive – forever."

"So, the moment I kill you–"

"The magic's gone, and your John is left in a loveless bond, trapped with you."

"That would only be after we mated. But if I kill you before we mated—"

"When are you going to do that?" Cher-Witch impatiently interrupted. "If you're going to waste my time like this, I'll kill you now and take my chances with the Alpha. But if you really want to get technical about it," the witch's nails tapped against the wooden table top, too loud, "Your suppressants are wearing off now as we speak, thanks to my magic. You can kill me, but by the time you make it out there looking for your Alpha, you're at the mercy of every other knothead. It's not going to be pretty for you."

Just like that, though, Cher-Witch's voice lightened. "But neither of us wants that, dear. Do you know why I do this?"

"I dunno. Eating children and cursing people's first-borns got old?"

"Cute. But no. I do this because I care about people. We live in a cruel world, Omega. People should get what they want. It's only fair." Cher-Witch put her hand over her heart and gently scraped her pinkie-nail over her sternum. "The heart wants what the heart wants, Omega. Isn't it time you get what you want? Be selfish for once."

You licked your lips. How bad could it be if you were with John? The two of you could have a good life. It wouldn't be that much different than what you had now. There would just be love, and considering the lives both you and John had led so far, you were in desperate need of that. "I," you croaked and then cleared you throat. "I accept."

"I knew you would," Cher-Witch simpered. "I just need you to repeat after me." She lifted her chin and recited with purpose, "The heart wants what the heart wants."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," you repeated with a tremble.

Cher-Witch's eyes went purple. Her smile was so wide it was blinding. "_Et quod corde vult ex corde velit_."

This part you hesitated and stumbled over the words the best you could, but your conviction never wavered. "_Et quod…corde vult ex corde…velit_."

As soon as the last word left your mouth, it was like your insides were liquefied in a blender and then dumped in lava. You screamed and Cher-Witch just laughed and laughed and laughed. Immediately, your skin was soaked in sweat and you were so cold and intensely lonely and broken inside. It was as if your very soul was being neatly cleaved in two, pieces of you flying away until you were just a shattered shell of your former self. Your pain intensified, but through it all you could still hear her cackles in the background, grating on your eardrums.

Then just as suddenly, it stopped, and the room was so quiet, not even the sputter of a candle heard. Cher-Witch was standing in front of you, and she offered you her hand. "Up now, Omega. You haven't got much time."

"What, what happened? What's going on?" You let her drag you to your feet in a daze. Once you were standing, your knees buckled, threatening to give out at any moment.

"This is your heat, dear. Your John has to claim you." Without asking for permission, Cher-Witch pressed her palm low over your stomach like the doctors do at your pelvic exams. "You still have some time, but not much. Go, quickly now. Find him." She ushered you to the door, and your feet worked robotically. Opening the door blinded you with sunlight, and you tried to pause so your eyes could adjust, but she shoved you the final step of the way over the threshold. "Go!" The door slammed behind you, you stumbled, and then you were running, trying to find John.

You told yourself that as soon as you saw John you would tell him about the witch. However, that plan was about to fly out the window as with every step you took your uterus was spasming with pain. It was as if your uterus was a tube of toothpaste and someone was trying to wring out the very last drop. Never before had your heats been so bad, but it had been a few years since you've had a proper heat. You knew the risks of suppressants as being only a temporary fix, but now you were wondering if they had really messed you up.

Once you were among the throng, you had to fight a new painful sensation: everyone's scents. It was a sea of Alphas, Omegas, and Betas, some mated and others not. All of the scents were wrong, none of them compatible to yours. You were looking for just one scent: leather seats, gun metal oil, whiskey, and aftershave. John. Where was John? Your Alpha.

Suddenly you slammed into a very firm chest and you were drowning in Alpha scent. "John," you sighed in relief. "John, please."

"Where's the demon? Something happened. I know it. I felt it." John asked, seizing you in his arms. All too aware of the eyes on you both, he started to guide you away. He didn't immediately register your scent, but as soon as he did, you could tell by how he stiffened like a rod and growled deep in his chest. "Goddammnit. I shouldn't have let you go alone."

"Mmm," you swept your tongue around your mouth and the sensation felt like sucking a raw cotton. "John, please. I need you now."

In your head, your conscience was screaming, _Tell him now! Tell him about the witch! Say it! _

All that came out of your mouth was, "Please, claim me, Alpha. I just want to be yours."

John's eyes went red, and you knew yours were golden. Your panties were drenched as you clawed at John's jacket, trying to peel it open and get your hands on his skin. "Come on," John ordered, "I'm getting you out of here."

He scooped you into his arms and carried you away, ignoring all the attention. You dissolved under the attention like cotton candy in water: all syrup, sugar, and sweetness. To comfort yourself, you buried your nose in his neck, nosing over his marking zone, his old mark from Mary faded with time. His scent washed over you, momentarily abated the pain of your heat cramps, and you licked and sucked at skin, tasting his sweat but careful to keep your teeth at bay for now.

* * *

Somewhere between John getting you in the truck and on the way to the motel, you must have blacked out from the pain. You didn't wake up again until you on that queen-sized bed, John already stripping away your clothes.

"What are you doing, John?" You asked, your hands shaky as you tried to push his hands away. At first the pain was so bad you thought you really were injured until memories of what you did came flooding back along with shame. That didn't last long as your libido kicked it up a notch, and you moaned deliriously. "John, it hurts."

"I know it does, baby girl," John hummed, and as soon as he spoke you were comforted. He never called you anything other than girl or your name. Hearing his nickname for you now felt like flowers erupting in your heart, each bud in bloom. "I'm gonna take the pain away. Daddy's gonna make it all better."

"Alpha," you whined. You hooked your fingers around whatever you could reach of him. This time it was the collar of his shirt that you stretched out with every insistent tug. "Knot me, please. I need you now."

John snarled and jerked himself out of your grasp. He continued to undress you with fervor now, yanking your sneakers off your feet so hard that he nearly twisted your ankle. At first you laughed at his eagerness, but his movements didn't get any gentler as he ripped your jeans off your legs and shredded your shirt in his hands. Your clothes were hanging on you like rags, but your skin was bared and that was all that he seemed to care about. Then he was already tearing at your underwear, and you swallowed your laughter then.

This wasn't what you had in mind for your first time with John, let alone your first time at all. John tore a line on your bra, separating the cups and then he reached a greedy hand for your panties. When he tore those away, the elastic snapped against your skin and stung. With each part of you revealed, John didn't bother to pause to appreciate you. It was clear to you now that this was John's rut, most likely brought on by your unfiltered heat scent. He wasn't really your John, but a different animal altogether. "John, wait," you began, "Slow down."

"Need you now, 'Mega," John muttered. Bending his head down, he licked a stripe from your chest up your throat, the gesture sloppy and animalistic.

As soon as he neared your mark, you turned your head on instinct, bracing yourself. But his bite never came. John dipped his head back down, alternating between kissing and licking his way down your body. He lingered over your nipples, but not long enough for your liking, too eager to get to your sodden pussy.

There he shoved your thighs apart, his shoulders wedging you open and exposing every inch of your slit. His hands would leave bruises, you were sure of it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about any of that now. Especially not when John was so close to giving you everything he wanted.

"Pretty little cunt. Can't wait to fuck you open on my knot." His tongue dragged over you, gathering up every drop of moisture he could and you whimpered, bucking your hips up for more stimulation. John wasn't giving you what you wanted, though, as his focus was only on getting more of your cream on his tongue. He licked you open, drooling over your pussy, but he didn't touch your clit or slide his fingers inside of you at all.

"John," you snapped, "Please touch me. Give me something. I want to come, I need to come, so fucking bad. Please." You didn't want to be reduced to begging, but of course John would continue to be difficult even like this.

"Not yet," John barked. "You come when I tell you to, 'Mega." But he did trace his fingers around your hole. Your walls fluttered in anticipation, but then he was disappointing you as he only teased circles around it. "I would finger this virgin cunt open, but I won't. I want you fucking tight on my knot. I'm gonna fuck you 'til you fit me perfectly, 'Mega."

You whined, but John just smacked the inside of your thighs with both hands, and you cut your whine short. "Yes, Alpha."

"Mhm. Good 'Mega."

John sat up and started to undress himself, finally. He took more care with his own clothes, you noticed, and though you wanted to help him, your pain was so intense at this point that sitting up was an impossibility. Instead you just watched as each tan strip of skin was revealed to your hungry eyes. You took note of every old burn and scar, remembering the few that you were around to experience with him from the odd hunt or two. His chest was defined, his stomach firm, and there was a generous sprinkling of salt-and-pepper chest hair that thickened towards his pelvis.

The metallic clink of his belt buckle drew your eyes further downward, and your pussy gushed in your excitement. John knew he had your attention, and his expression was smug as he finally pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang up, too heavy to smack against his abdomen as it hung there, thick and long. At the sight of it, your mouth was as wet as your pussy, and John had the audacity to chuckle. "You wanna taste it, 'Mega?"

"You know I do, John," you sighed, "but I need your knot too much."

"Hm," John grunted. "I think you are gonna taste my cock, 'Mega. Gotta train your throat to take this knot." He shuffled forward until he straddled your body, and then he was waving his cock over your face. "Come on, baby girl. The wetter you get it, the easier it'll slide inside your tight little cunt."

You looked past John's huge cock to his face, his dark eyes glowing red just below the surface. Then John used his Alpha growl on you, something he didn't usually do unless it was for a hunt. "Open your mouth, 'Mega."

Your mouth opened, and John fed his inches into your mouth with a smile, going deeper and deeper until your lips were stretched around him and it was hard to breathe. "That's it, just relax and open up for me now." Tears sprung to your eyes until they were shiny. "Now suck, 'Mega."

Hesitantly at first, you suckled at his cock, lapping at it the best you could. John shivered at the feeling of your wet, warm mouth around him, but then he was giving into his instincts and fucking down your throat. You gagged in surprised, but then had to concentrate on breathing through your nose. Spit leaked out of your mouth, and you tasted him on your tongue, heavy and a little bitter like black licorice.

The sound of him fucking your throat was obscene and with each rock of John's hip the headboard thumped against the thin motel wall. Everyone would know what he was doing to you, but you thrived knowing that. You wanted everyone to know he was yours as much as you were his. Your Alpha. His Omega.

John's hands were suddenly on your face, then as he jammed his thumbs in your mouth on either side of his cock. "Open wider for me, 'Mega. I wanna pop my knot." Your eyes went wide, and you attempted to shake your head, unsure if you could take him like that, but John's grip on your face was tight as he pressed his palms against your cheeks, hollowing your mouth around his hard, pulsing length. It was clear that he was chasing his own pleasure, and you were just a convenient fuck hole for that.

There was then a building pressure at your lips as John's knot started to swell. "Fuck yeah," he murmured to himself and started to massage your jaw, encouraging you to open impossibly wider. "Gonna come," he warned you, and then he did with a loud snarl ripping through the air.

The first splash of his thick come down your throat nearly choked you, but then you were swallowing every drop, taking it all. Breathing was impossible and the edges of your vision started to go dark as he held himself in your mouth. Your stomach cramped and spasmed, and your pussy burned with need, dripping on the cheap motel blankets until there was an embarrassingly large wet spot underneath your bottom. The blankets were a little itchy, but you were used to discomfort by now. Somewhere along the way, your hands had wrapped themselves around John's powerful thighs, and you tapped him now, asking for relief.

He took mercy on you and eased off, shuffling back down your body. "You're a good girl, 'Mega," he lightly praised. "Smell so fucking good. I got another fucking load just for that sweet pussy, baby girl. You still want it?"

"Please," you croaked, "Please, Alpha, need you so bad." You coughed, sputtering, the taste of him still lingering in your mouth. "Fuck me."

"Don't worry, 'Mega, I'm gonna." He slipped his hips between your thighs, and they automatically came up and wrapped around his waist. "I'm gonna breed this cunt. Your gonna be so round with my pups, baby girl."

Through the fog of pain and pleasure in your brain, you barely registered what he said except that you were finally going to have him. "Yessss, John," you hissed, "Alpha."

John tugged your legs off of his body and then flipped your body over, pulling at your hips. "Present, 'Mega," he commanded you, needlessly so in his Alpha growl. He smacked your ass and you gasped at the sting, pushing your rear back into his hand

You shuffled into the position on your hands and knees, blindly following John's orders as you always inevitably ended up doing. There was a steady purr in your chest now, and you spread your legs open wider, the moisture of your arousal steadily dripping down your thighs. The skin to skin contact was good for you, pushing back the lingering pangs of your heat. Soon he would be yours and you would be his, and your heart stuttered at the thrill.

"Beautiful," John sounded pleased. "Reach back here and hold yourself open for me, 'Mega. I wanna watch my dick sink into that pretty pussy."

Heat flushed under your skin, half arousal and half embarrassment. Still, you did as you were told, shifting down until your chest was pressed to the scratchy blankets. Your hands reached backwards and spread your cheeks, the air cool against your wet flesh. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt so lewd, but sexy. You would do anything for John.

"That's it, baby girl. You ready for me?"

"God yes, you know I am, John. Please, please."

Chuckling darkly, John lowered himself over your body. You nearly jumped at the sensation of his hairy chest pressing against your shoulder blades, and his cock rutted against your labia lips. "I love it when you beg." Then he was guiding himself inside of you, smooth and deep in one stroke.

His cock was huge, nearly too big, and it stretched your walls with a delicious burn. "Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck," you babbled, all capacity for thought impossible when John was inside you. You could hardly believe it. This had been your dream for many a lonely night, and now it was happening. Tears once again came to your eyes, and you cried out, "Oh, Alpha, yes!"

John only growled in response and after only a brief pause, he started rutting into you. His hips smacked against your ass and thighs, imprinting himself into your skin wherever he touched you. John's hands grabbed at whatever he could reach of you, his touch greedy and grasping, tight and hard. Your hips, your breasts, your thighs, your neck, all of it he squeezed like a man possessed, trying to claim every bit of you. Finally, his hands settled on your breasts, groping you blindly and twisting savagely at your nipples.

You were barely able to hold on as John plowed into you. The force of his thrusts pushed you across the bed until you were nearly slamming the top of your head against the low headboard. At this point you were unable to form curse words or cries for John, only reduced to moans of your pleasure.

"That's right," John goaded, "you were made for this, 'Mega. Made to be bred. Made to be mine." His mouth brushed over your shoulders, his stubble ticklish against your sensitive skin, but your nerve endings sang in response. He ducked his mouth closer to your ear and whispered, "You don't come 'til I say you come, baby girl. You hear me?"

Nodding before he even finished, you managed to whimper, "Yes, yes, Alpha." You held out for this long, you thought you could go longer.

Then John started teasing his lips around your marking area, licking up your sweat and softly suckling, but still not hard enough to leave a mark. You wanted the mark and you wanted it now, but you knew that wouldn't come until the heat of the moment, and it was getting harder and harder for you to hold back.

Desperate for some relief you slid your hand down the outside of your thigh towards your pussy, just barely ghosting your fingertips over your neglected clit. Knowing yourself by now, you brushed over the spot in a tease and it immediately made your cunt tighten up around John's cock. Your breath hitched and your pussy got wetter, which you didn't think was possible. The extra moisture made your pussy squelch with every inward plunge.

_Smack!_

Your thigh smarted where John spanked it and then he was sitting up to his full height and grabbing your wrists, wrenching your hand away from your clit. "Did I give you permission to touch yourself, 'Mega?" John growled and smacked your other thigh for good measure. He pinned your hands to the small of your back and started driving into you ruthlessly. "I'm the only one who makes you come. That pussy belongs to me. Hear me?"

"Yes, Alpha," you sobbed, nearly smothered against the blankets. You started throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts, eager to please him as much as you were so needing to come. "Alpha, please, I need it. I need your fucking knot. Give it to me. Let me come!" You pleaded.

John's teeth gnashed. "You want my knot, baby girl? I'm gonna give you goddamn everything." With his free hand he reached around between your legs and started plucking your clit. "Tighten up your cunt for me, 'Mega. I'm gonna breed you full."

That was all the warning you got before John's knot started catching on your pussy lips, and you squirmed in surprise. The contrast of John's clever fingers working over your clit and his swelling knot drove you crazy and you never fought harder not to come. Then John's knot was locked inside you, and he snarled harshly in your ear, "Come for me now, 'Mega."

And you did. Your pleasure washed over you like a tide, cresting so high your vision whited out and you froze in place. All of the muscles of your body were momentarily frozen, except for the walls of your pussy as they wrung out John's knot for all his come. John had sunk his teeth into your shoulder where it met the neck, and the marking only prolonged your orgasm. He held still, groaning around your flesh, lapping up your blood.

There was no talking until John's knot went down, and that's when he finally let go of your new mark. Upon releasing it, he gave it a single kiss before shifting to the side and collapsing on the sheets. Exhausted, you did the same, a numbness creeping over you that spread from your fingers and the very tips of your toes.

It took you a moment to realize that you were wet, wetter than before. You shifted at the sticky sensation, wondering at first if it because of how much John came, but then John hummed, "I didn't know you were a squirter."

Eyes widening in embarrassment, you choked on your tongue. "Neither did I." You dragged yourself closer to John, pressing kisses to his bicep. "I guess you bring out all the best in me, John." Dragging your lips higher you went to return the mark, but John withdrew from you.

"No, 'Mega. I've already been claimed once. I'm not doing that again."

"But," you stuttered, "but if I belong to you…"

"You do, baby girl. You're mine," John reassured you.

He leaned over and caught your mouth in a hypnotic kiss, and it was then you realized that that was your first kiss with John. Your stomach swirled as you opened your mouth to his probing tongue. John sucked on your bottom lip hard, gnawing at it until it was swollen, sensitive, and bruised. The two of you only pulled away when you had to breathe.

Together you settled down to sleep with John spooning against your back. His arm clamped down around your midsection as he took a possessive handful of your breasts. John's lips brushed over your new mark, lingering for a moment before he settled his head on his own pillow. "Soon you're gonna be round with my pups," he sighed, "I'm gonna have to take you back to Bobby's so we can get the boys. We need a place for you to raise them, all of them."

Sleepily, you asked, "Pups? But John, what about hunting?"

"You can't do that anymore, 'Mega. Too dangerous for you."

Inside your chest, your heart lurched. "But what about you?"

"I still got a job to do," John's tone was dark.

You knew that voice all too well. That was a voice of a man who lost everything and felt he had nothing else to lose. You never felt so foolish as you did then. How could you think that John would give it all up for you? Not even his boys could keep him from avenging Mary's death. And you, now you weren't so sure about having pups, at least not so soon. You still enjoyed hunting, and you thought you'd have a few years of John to yourself before you thought about settling down. After all, you were still young and had plenty of breeding years left.

Now you were starting to regret your deal with Cher-Witch, but you already know it was too late. If you went back on the deal now, John might dump you in the middle of nowhere regardless of your mark or if you were pregnant. And if he kept you, you would be his and trapped already.

You thought you knew what love was. You believed in true love, true mates, that you and John would be perfect together. But you messed with things you didn't understand, and you had no idea how this would end now.

"Rest now, 'Mega," John urged you, smoothing his hand over your stomach. You could tell he was imagining you round with pups, and you shivered at the thought. "I got you, baby girl. You're gonna be okay."

With those last lingering thoughts and promises, you allowed yourself to fall into an uneasy sleep, only hoping that you'd be able to find happiness in your new life as John Winchester's Omega.


End file.
